


First Christmas Back In New York

by LibertyKingdom



Category: Miami Vice (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:54:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21543340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibertyKingdom/pseuds/LibertyKingdom
Summary: Tubbs drags Crockett to New York for Christmas and they end up watching movies.(I forgot that I ever wrote this)
Relationships: Sonny Crockett x Ricki Tubbs
Kudos: 1





	First Christmas Back In New York

Ricki had one arm coiled around Crockett’s middle as they casually trudged through the rough and snowy streets of the Bronx. It was less of a romantic gesture than she wished it could have been and more of a protective measure. White boys tended to get too much unwelcome attention from the street-gangs. Most of the time they ended up hurt or dead. But Raquel had a pretty big reputation and although she changed through the years, that rep still followed her. They wouldn’t mess with her or her friends. Having her arm around him was one way to wordlessly communicate that Crockett was hers and any challenges to this were unwelcome. It was like the placement of blood above the doors in Biblical times, so that the angel of death would not visit. Ricki hoped Sonny didn’t mind her invasion of personal space, but doing this would keep him from some serious trouble in the neighborhood, where he was a minority.

Holiday lights and music seemed to add an air of cheerfulness. Christmas-time in New York City was intoxicating in an entirely different way than its usual bustling chaos. There was a livelihood and hope to be felt even in the darkest of alleys. Everywhere they went, there was an air of great expectation and excitement that could not be rivaled by any other season of the year. Smiles appeared on even the most menacing of punks faces. 

And for the first time in years, it strangely felt like Ricki had returned home. A home that had changed in terms of importance and complete aura since last, a foot, was stepped in it. For the immediate absence of loved ones could easily be felt through the city. Although, it was not so easily seen, the strange presence of new and different loved ones seemed to put salve on the burns and scars the past had left upon everyone’s hearts. All the same, it was refreshing to know that her other home still existed, even in its changed state. She couldn’t help but find it uplifting, that her New York seemed to welcome them as weary wayward travelers, with opened arms. 

Ricki’s hand nervously extended towards the door of the apartment but she hesitantly with-drew it. She and Raphael used to live inside this very same apartment building, until the day he had gotten married. She had to swallow back the sorrowful lump growing and threatening to close off the confines of her throat. With a hesitant look at her freezing partner, Ricki decided that she had to push herself past the fear of remembering what it felt like to be with her brother. Seizing the handle of the door, she found herself recollecting what it was like to be Raquel Tubbs the model. The model, who would make enough money to carry them out of this pit of destruction, that was known as the Bronx. The model, Ricki believed died, the very day she decided to be a cop. The way she had failed to deliver upon her promise to rescue them from poverty, both troubled and haunted her. Hell, she owned maybe one thing in her life, her car, that was about it. All the expensive clothes and jewelry she had in her wardrobe now, belonged to the Miami police department. By the time she, herself, had become a cop, this apartment had been made safer by her brother, his partner Da’vante Simons, and several other dedicated cops from other city departments.

While Raphael never approved of her decision to become a cop, he supported her every grueling step of the way. Ricki could never forget the way her brother made her feel when she returned from the academy. He decorated the apartment and hosted the biggest party she had ever seen in her entire life, to celebrate her graduation. It was like the entire building and street happened to be in attendance. There wasn’t even room to move in their apartment and the hallway was lined with people waiting to get in. This building also happened to be the very same place, her brother proposed to his now widowed wife. Sadly enough, their old apartment was just a few floors down from where she and Sonny would be staying. 

A few tears clung to her lashes as she pulled Dav’s door open and murmured, “Gosh, I haven’t been here in such a long time.” The period of time she classified as “being long”, happened to be nearly two or three years. Which, when you visit someone every day for most of your life, was a great expanse of time. Ricki grew quieter than usual as she entered the room. The furniture, lighting, and setting had changed a good deal. Even the records beside the turntable had been rotated and the musical collection had been added to, which felt, quite frankly, slightly overwhelming. But then, there were the good old things that remained in the places they had been for years, and those familiar things brought a smile back to her face. Things like the kitchen table, the sink, and the welcome mat, the tinier details, made this place feel more at home than a strange hotel ever could. 

A few pictures on the wall caught her attention and for a moment she forgot that Crockett was with her. Slowly she approached them with an air of reverence. Her fingers slowly and longingly traced over the glass covering. So many memories all swelled back through her mind as her eyes fixated upon the collage. It was full of pictures of Raphael, her, and Da’vante as kids and teens, along with some other people she didn’t know or recognize-presumably his wife and her friends. But the ones that really got her attention were of her elder brother. There was even one photo from Christmas time, where they were standing in front of a the tree, in this very apartment. Dav and Raphael were both dressed in uniforms with little Ricki propped up on their shoulders. She was putting the star upon the highest bow and all three of them had the widest grins possible upon their faces. The sounds of faint laughter and long-forgotten conversations could almost be heard echoing back through the foggy past, as she studied the picture. 

Underneath the pictures was a well-placed desk, adorned with a sizable present, wrapped for one Raquieta “Rockie” Tubbs. It was Dav’s favorite calling card for her and believe you me, she had earned the nickname Rockie by hanging out with all the boys in the hood. A quiet laugh escaped her as she wiped away a few silvery tears. There was even a small parcel for Crockett. Having talked to Ricki a few days before their arrival, Dav got Sonny a nice pair of alligator cufflinks. It was Ricki’s idea and she paid for half of the set. 

Dav was like an adopted older brother to her. He had been the one taking care of Ricki after Raphael died, because she had no other place to turn. Dav hadn’t been there when Raphael was shot. He was out sick. He always felt as guilty as Ricki did, if not more so for Raph’s death. Dav stayed by her side when she was at her lowest, the way Crockett always seemed to be doing since the day they first met. There was something about Sonny, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She knew in some strange way that she needed him as much as her lungs needed air and as much as her body needed to have a pulse. Why? Ricki couldn’t honestly hazard a guess. One thing was certain, there wasn’t anyone she’d rather spend the holidays with. 

The gifts were left beside several of her small photo albums. Ones she had left behind the day she headed for Miami. The move to Florida had been as abrupt as a tornado ripping through the southern states during the dead of Summer. The photos were some of Ricki’s most prized possessions, that is, if she was being honest. They were minuscule snapshots, shambles, and fragments of a life that was once completely her own. A life before Crockett, Stan, Lar, Gina, Trudy, and Castillo. Remnants of a life that she no longer seem to own or cared to own. Ricki had lost touch with it. It was like trying on shoes that one hasn’t worn since high-school and they’ve become uncomfortably tight and almost utterly useless. It felt as though, she happened to be looking down a long hallway and finally realized just how much the seemingly trivial changes over time, had drastically effected her entire life-course. 

Little did she know that inside the wrapped gift for her, there were letters that Raphael had written and collected to give to Raquel sometime in the future. He didn’t get to finish the last letter before work and now he never would. She wouldn’t however open the gift in front of Crockett, thanks to the note on it, that said it contained things from both Dav and Raphael. Apparently, during the winter’s cleaning at Raphael’s widow’s, she had found them and put them all in plastic sleeves and a binder; (like one does with photos) for Ricki. It was painful for her to give them up but Raphael’s wife, though her and Ricki didn’t know each other terribly well, knew Ricki needed them more. But just by looking at the package, she’d never guess what it contained. The female detective pulled off her coat and delicately placed it over top a dinning-room chair.

Turning her head, she jilted back into the present and recalled that Crockett was there. “Just looking at some old pictures,” she simply breathed, trying not to become too emotionally attached to the memories. Noticing that Sonny was still red and clearly frozen like a cherry popsicle, Ricki nervously offered, “I….I’ll go find you another sweater or something. In the meantime, Da’vante told me to tell you to make yourself at home because any friend of mine is a friend of his. He only asks that we leave a photo of ourselves standing in front of his tree. As a result of this tradition, Dav has photos of me and my brother and all of his partners through the years. I guess, he is like Raphael, in the way that old traditions must be adhered to. His tree is decorated with photos and ornaments of years past…. kind of a memorial or tribute. He calls it his “Blessing Tree” because all his partners, both good and bad, have been blessings on the road that we call life.” A gentle smile now graced her lips as she spoke Dav’s words. For some reason, his Blessing Tree felt like a God send, this, of all years. 

As she headed back into the bedroom, she turned on the rabbit eared tv, by way of the remote. She’d use the noise as well as Crockett’s presence to drown out her own thoughts and memories. Rooting through Da’vante’s clothes felt so strangely familiar, for as a little girl, she had done it many times. That was, when Dav happened to be more her size and way before his massive growth spurt. Da’vante and Raphael had dressed her up on numerous occasions to pass her off as a “little brother” when they were going into dangerous places and couldn’t leave her home alone. However, there were major differences between then and now. She was older, Raphael was dead, and Dav was out-of-town visiting his new wife’s family, and Ricki was with her favorite crime-busting partner from Miami. 

Suddenly, Ricki stopped as her hand pulled out a sweater that had belonged to Raphael. For a moment, it seemed as though, her heart dropped from its usual place in her chest, and it proceeded to fall helplessly into the pit of her stomach. The sweater was ugly. Oh so very hideous and she had told him at least a thousand times to throw it away, but Raphael had always loved the stupid thing. For the first time ever, she blessed its wretched existence. Holding the sweater up to examine it, out of a sudden and purely nostalgic urge, she ascertained that it looked to be just about the size Crockett wore. She dug through a few more sweaters, attempting to find something that didn’t say Raphael all over it. But the darn sweater of her brother’s appeared to be the most comfortable and the thickest looking of all of them. Poor Sonny would need all the insulation he could get.

With a subconscious shrug of her shoulders she told herself, who cares about fashion when comfort is of the most importance? Besides, Crockett usually wore what ever was most comfortable in Miami. Why would he have cause to change now? And it wasn’t like she was going to take him outside again, at least, not for the night. Tomorrow was an entirely different story. Ricki swallowed sharply. Sharing such a personal piece of her shadowy past wasn’t going to be easy for her and she knew it. Bravely and stubbornly she picked the sweater up again, along with six or so heavy blankets. With a sigh, Ricki carried them into the living-room. 

Sheepishly Ricki handed Sonny the thick sweater. “I know it is not the nicest to look at. I told Raph and even Da’vante so, many times….. but they both said it was one of the warmest sweaters they had. It, unfortunately, looks like they were telling the truth. You can put it on. And if you want, I’ll wear the matching one Dav bought. Its smaller than Raphael’s….. he was always smaller than my brother. That is…. if you don’t want to feel so awkward or silly. Besides, I can tell your still frozen…. even if you want to pretend you’re not, Mr. Macho in Miami. Or should I say, Sunshine.” Ricki laughingly remarked, nudging him playfully with her elbow. 

Having Sonny there to keep her company was the greatest gift she could ever imagine receiving. Just looking at him made it easier to get past all of the emptiness and pain that she felt in her heart. He was living up to his nickname “Sonny” by simply being a ray of hope and light, in an otherwise dark time. Inwardly, Ricki believed that Raphael would approve of the partnership she had going with Crockett. Although, maybe not so much the way they sometimes jokingly spoke to each other. 

Shaking her head to break herself out of such thoughts, Ricki’s mind reeled for something remotely smart to say. Finding nothing of significant importance, she breathed,“there should be holiday movies on. We should watch a few… that is, if you’d like. It is always better than having to watch the paint on the walls peel.” She didn’t want Sonny to be bored or for him to regret flying all the way out to the blisteringly cold city. Making Sonny her focus would keep her mind off of everything she didn’t and wouldn’t have this Christmas.

Before she even thinks of sitting down, she makes a trip into the kitchen. When she returns to the living-room, Ricki has a tray of hot drinks, an oversized bowl of popcorn, crackers, and a plate of tiny sandwiches in her hands. What stay-at-home movie night was complete without drinks, food, and blanket sharing between best friends on the couch?


End file.
